Tearing The Shroud Read Online Free PDF

something didn’t look right. Then he recognized what it was — both Jonas and his mother were in flames. Jonas somehow managed to get within ten feet of Justus before he staggered and fell to one side. Still clutching the form of their dead mother, both their bodies continued to burn. Justus rolled onto his right side in his effort to reach them, but the pain was too great to do anything more. He lay there on his side, as they were on theirs, Jonas’ head just above his mother’s, both of their faces in clear view. He tried to look away, to shut his eyes, but couldn’t help staring in a mix of horror and fascination at what transpired before him.
    His mother’s skin was already starting to blacken and crack, but his brother’s seemed to be melting. His features were running like wax, the fat popping and sizzling, finally joining his mother’s in a macabre death mask that looked strangely like a grin. As sanity slipped from his grasp, Justus smiled. They’d posed for the family portrait the same way. In a quieter part of his mind, a litany started, trying to hold back the darkness that threatened to overwhelm it. This would not happen to him. He was never going to die, never going to die, never going to die, never going...

 
    A Rescue
    When they finally made it through to their neighbor’s home, a scene of terrible destruction met Ezra and his sons. The most beautiful holding in the land lay in ruin. They entered the gate and saw bodies by the cistern. Two of them, charred beyond recognition and another, not burnt but surely dead. He covered his mouth with his kerchief, fighting back the impulse to vomit.
    ‘Looks like none of them made it, boys.’
    ‘Yeah, Da, I guess not,’ his oldest son replied. ‘Wish we could’a got here sooner.’
    The youngest and most curious of the brothers dismounted. Unbothered by the sight, he walked nearer to the bodies than the rest of them cared to. As he did, he spoke up, ‘Da, I think you may be wrong. This one, I think it’s Justus, is still breathing.’
    Ezra jumped off his horse and ran over. ‘Looks like you’re right, boy,’ he said, from Justus’ side. ‘Fetch me the water.’ The youngest returned with it, while his brother kept his distance. Ezra spoke to them with wonder, ‘Will you look at that, three days here and he’s tryin’ to speak.’ He took the water skin from his son and dribbled some into the corner of Justus’ mouth.
    ‘What’s he sayin’, Da?’ the oldest asked.
    ‘I’m not sure.’ Ezra lowered his ear to Justus’ lips, listening carefully. ‘Sounds like, ‘Never going to die.’

 
    The Choosing
    Justus was bedridden, in constant agony, for two Lunos cycles and a sevenday. He refused to speak about his ordeal, or the loss of his family. The last attempt, made by Ezra’s wife Pricilla, ended with him screeching as she backed wide-eyed from the room. ‘They’re burnt meat. Do you know what that smells like? Sunday roast. Don’t — speak — of — it. Never, do you hear me? Never!’
    The Healer who treated him was the best in the Valley, and had traveled for two days to reach the holding where Justus lay swimming in fever. Ezra kept messenger birds and was able to dispatch one to summon the Healer quickly. This was a fact that Ezra brought to Justus’ attention often during his convalescence.
    He would come to ‘see how the lad was coming along,’ and then proceed to fawn over him like he was royalty. At first, such deference embarrassed Justus. Then it became tiresome. Eventually, Justus was disgusted each time Ezra would start up. He was like a sniveling child waiting for a piece of candy. A moment of clarity came to him one day as Ezra stood at the foot of his bed with his eyes meekly directed at the floor and his hat twisted in his hands. He’s approaching me with , what? Anticipation? Supplication? He sensed that he had some sort of power over the man, but couldn’t figure out why. After dismissing Ezra with a wave